Between Night and Day
by WindyCanyon
Summary: Arthur leaves his Italian lover to go on a business trip, but when he returns, Lovino has disappeared like he was never there at all. He uses his skills and friends to locate his lost lover, but as they get closer to finding Lovino, the farther Arthur feels he actually is. Things about Lovino come to light, and Arthur begins to question all he ever knew about the man he loved.
1. Chapter 1

Arthur slipped silently from the bed, careful not to wake his love, and quietly got dressed. He chose his tweed suit for the bleak morning. It was still too early for the sun to brighten the room more than a dull grey, and the hazy dragged at his fingers. They fiddled and hesitated to push each button through the hole. He glanced back at the bed longingly. Lovino still slept in a lump of blankets, one arm thrown into the space he once occupied. Arthur went to his lover and pulled back the blankets enough to see Lovino's face. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Lovino's cheek. The brunet continued to sleep undisturbed, and Arthur smiled. He lingered, watching Lovino sleep.

The taxi would arrive soon, but Arthur couldn't find it in himself to leave Lovino just yet. His suitcase was already packed and waiting by the door, and Arthur reluctantly walked out to the kitchen. He made himself a cup of tea. It would be his last cup in his home for a while, and he savored it. Arthur gazed around his kitchen. Usually he left the kitchen as Lovino's domain, but Arthur always loved being in it, especially if Lovino was cooking. There was nothing he enjoyed more than watching his lover move around the kitchen, working magic with his hands. As he closed his eyes and leaned against the counter, memories of laughter and smiles—shouting and tears—kisses and love, passed through his mind. He gave each one its due, cherishing them and tucking them back into the shelves of his heart with care.

"_Sole mio._" Lovino's smooth voice brushed over him, soothing the ache in his heart.

A hand laid against his cheek and Arthur leaned into it. Lovino modeled his body against Arthur's and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Arthur opened his eyes and smiled gently at his beloved. "I'm sorry, love. Did I wake you?"

"The moment you left my arms." Lovino ran a hand through his hair and laid his head on Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur knew this was Lovino's last ditch effort to convince him to stay. The brunet was never quite this sweet to him on a regular basis, but Lovino somehow thought that seducing him now with honeyed words would make him stay. It was already too late for him to change his flight and tell his client he wasn't going. Lovino didn't want him to go even more than Arthur himself didn't want to go. He'd never had a taste for France, and staying away from his love and life for a month seemed impossible.

Lovino lifted his head and kissed him gently. Arthur relished the sweetness and attention. When Lovino pulled back, Arthur slid a hand around the back of his neck and dove in for another kiss. He would be leaving for a month. That was exactly four weeks—thirty days—seven hundred and twenty hours. Far too long to go without kisses from his beloved. Lovino indulged him, deepening the kiss.

From outside, a car horn honked and Arthur pulled back. "That's my cabby..."

Lovino sighed and brushed his thumb over his cheek. "Have a nice flight."

He leaned forward and captured Lovino's lips in one last desperate kiss. While the brunet was distracted, Arthur carefully unclasped the gold chain around Lovino's neck and slipped the necklace into his pocket. It was just something to remember his love by during his time away from him.

Another honk interrupted them before they could get too caught up with each other and they walked to the door. Lovino stayed in the doorway as Arthur took each step down slowly with his suit case in hand. His baggage was heavy, but not as heavy as the baggage on his heart.

"Arthur..."

He looked back over his shoulder and memorized the sight. Lovino leaned against the doorway, watching him sorrowfully. If he didn't know any better, Arthur might have said he saw a tear in Lovino's eye. "Yes?"

"_Ti amo tanto, sole mio._"

Arthur smiled sadly. "_Ti amo troppo, fatina_."

After finally dragging himself down the last of the steps, he threw his suit case into the back of the taxi and himself in the back seat. "The airport, please, and hurry."

The taxi driver nodded and started to drive. "Where ya goin'? Anywhere special?"

"It's nowhere I want to be." Arthur retrieved Lovino's necklace from his pocket and held it in his hand. The gold cross shone even in the grey light and he sentimentally thought he could still feel Lovino's warmth coming from it. He clasped the chain around his neck and kissed the cross. It rested on his chest and for the first time since knowing he would have to leave, Arthur's heart felt a bit lighter.

...

"You are finally not wearing that terrible scowl, mon ami." Francis sat in the seat across from him with his chin resting on his hand. The Frenchman wore an expression of bored elegance, coupled with a designer silk shirt and tailored trousers. His entire outfit screamed wealth, while Arthur looked shabby in his old tweed suit. It was his own fault he was so under dressed. Lovino had warned him that he would need to wear one of his nice suits to Paris. "Is Paris really that awful?"

"It's never been Paris that's awful." He glanced around, taking in the smell of freshly baked bread and the sound of lulling French. If Arthur was talking to anyone else, he'd comment on the beauty and life of it, but this was Francis he was talking to and knowing Francis, the man would puff up like a prideful peacock. The only thing more annoying than Francis was Francis with his stupid sense of patriotic pride inflated to the size of the Eiffel Tower.

"Then its me?"

He rolled his eyes. "Despite my dislike for you, no. It's never been about where I am, it's about where I am not."

"What is so important you have to be there? I thought your job was the most important thing in your pitiful life." Silence passed between them and Francis stared at him. The Frenchman gasped suddenly, a new light coming to his eyes. "How could I not see it sooner! All the woeful sighs and short-tempered snapping. You—You're in love!"

"What! No!" Arthur flushed and his hand found the cross around his neck. "I never said that."

The blond smirked. "You've never struck me as a religious man, Arthur. Just tell big brother who it is."

"Shut up, you wanker." Arthur turned his face away. The Frenchman always teased him about how his grumpy personality would scare off anyone and everyone. Francis never took into account he might find someone even grumpier than him to love. "Why should I tell you?"

"I'm your oldest friend!"

"Oldest acquaintance," Arthur corrected.

"You wound me." Francis pressed a dramatic hand to his chest. "If you do not tell me, I might begin to think you're making him up."

"He is real!" Arthur pouted slightly.

"It wouldn't be the first time you've tricked me with a made up boyfriend."

"Oi, it's not my fault you mistook my cat for a lover."

"The way you talked about him was unnatural! You cannot blame me for being confused!" Francis shook his head. "We're getting off topic. Who is he? How did you meet someone who could finally stand to be near you for longer than a day?"

Arthur sipped his tea and decided he couldn't hold it in anymore. He'd been keeping Lovino a secret for fear of things not working out. If he was going to have his heart broken, he rather have it broke alone and not have to face the mockery of anyone else knowing exactly what was killing him and how much it was killing him. "You remember my business trip to Italy?"

"The one last year?" Francis looked at him with renewed interest.

"Yes. I met someone." Arthur felt his mind drift back to the stifling heat of Rome.

It happened quickly, almost immediately after first meeting. He didn't believe in love at first sight, but his meeting with Lovino was much more than just eye contact. Arthur had been in a hurry to get back to his hotel and he hadn't noticed the man coming around the corner. They collided in a flurry of papers and rolling fruit. Arthur would never forget that flushed face cussing him out in Italian, while he stared like an idiot. Once Lovino had figured out he didn't speak Italian, he'd quickly switched to English and chewed him out in a whole other language. It was the least to say Arthur was smitten. He offered to buy the man, whose name he would later learn was Lovino, lunch as an apology and Lovino surprisingly accepted (He would also learn that Lovino never declined a good, free meal).

That first lunch led to others and soon Lovino was showing him around Rome. The days blurred together and, after a merry night at a bar, they fell into bed together as quickly as they had fallen into love. But as his job would have it, he was to leave too quickly. Lovino didn't come to see him off the last day, but they had said their goodbyes with wine and kisses—promises never to be kept. Arthur had told Lovino if he was ever in London to come see him. The Italian hadn't said anything, and Arthur doubt Lovino would ever leave his beloved Rome for dreary London. That was the end of his short love affair—or so he thought. Upon entering his dull apartment, Arthur found a very tired and very satisfied Italian occupying his couch. And that was the official start of their life together. It seems so surreal thinking back on it, like something out of a romance novel, and Arthur could hardly believe his luck some days.

"You truly are a romantic." Francis sighed dreamily at the end of his story. "I cannot believe he left sunny Italy to move in with you."

"At least I found someone willing to move for me. You haven't had a steady relationship in years." Arthur crossed his arms. "Do not bring down my love with your dismal love life." There was a pause and he began laughing. "I never thought I'd be the one saying that to you, usually it's the other way around."

"You're terrible." Francis pouted.

"And he's wonderful." Arthur felt a smile pull on his lips and the golden brown of his tea began to remind him of Lovino's eyes. "You don't even know the half of it, Francis. Lovino can cook, sing, dance. He smart and witty. I love him so dearly. I can't bear to be away from him."

Francis reached out and touched his hand. "I'm happy for you, my friend. I'll have to meet this Lovino someday."

"Oh no, no, no. He would absolutely hate you." Arthur smirked. He'd carefully groomed Lovino to despise Francis. He was well aware of Lovino's violent temper and would happily deploy it against the blond. "He doesn't care much for the French."

"Then he doesn't have good taste." Francis huffed. "But considering he fell in love with you, I'm not surprised."

"If you do ever meet him, I suggest you never say that to his face. Lovino prides himself on his taste in things, and that comment would likely get you thrown out with a blackened eye." Arthur's smirk grew into a grin. "I always forget to mention he has a wonderful temper."

Francis frowned. "Only you would find a temper to be wonderful."

He laughed and paid for his meal, standing up. "I have to leave. It's almost time for my flight."

"Wait, I have one last question about this Lovino." Francis looked at him in a moment of sudden, great solemnity.

Arthur sat down slowly and frowned. "What is it?"

"You have told him about your job, haven't you?"

"Of course, I have." Arthur scowled. "I find the people who don't want to be found. Plain and simple."

"Don't pretend you're the average private detective. You never advertise it as such." An almost mocking smile pulled at Francis' lips, but there was pity in the Frenchman's eyes.

"You know it would be dangerous to tell Lovino the complete truth..." mumbled Arthur, looking away. "I keep secrets for a reason. I can't lose him."

Francis shook his head, obviously disappointed. "Then tell me what he does know. If I am to ever meet this Lovino, I want to know what I can and cannot mention. It's simply for your sake, we wouldn't want him to think you're of an...unsavory disposition."

"Shut up, Francis," he snapped, annoyed with Francis' ability to remind him his life will never be simple when relationships are involved. "I've told him that I am hired by clients to find people. My clients are usually wealthy, and I am good at what I do."

"So, you've basically told him nothing."

"Just the basics!" People glanced their way, and Arthur lowered his voice. Francis always could get him wound up so easily. "He doesn't need to know anything more."

"Whatever you think is best, my friend, but I hope it all turns out alright when he finds out you make people disappear as well as find them."

Arthur said his goodbyes to Francis and went back to the hotel. He was finally going home and Lovino would be waiting with a kiss, although the conversation with Francis had left a bit of a bitter note on his joy. Arthur smiled all the way to the airport and not even stupid people could take away his happiness. Lovino was only a short distance away and he couldn't wait to close that distance.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur unlocked the door and dragged his suitcase in. He left it by the door. There was a strange stillness to the apartment that made Arthur pause. He quickly shook off the feeling and called for Lovino. Silence answered him, which was unusual. He knew Lovino would be off work by now. _Perhaps he went to the store or to the pub_, Arthur thought and took his suitcase into the bedroom, noting Lovino had picked up the floor a bit. Lovino always did like to have a drink before he went home and chat with the bartender.

Again, he paused. There was something off with the room. It smelled dank, like no one had been there in a long time. Arthur looked around, now alarmed by the silence, and his eyes fell on a sight Arthur thought he'd never see.

The bed was made. Lovino never made the bed.

He grabbed his phone and called Lovino. It went straight to voicemail. Arthur tried to calm himself. Maybe Lovino just had his phone off, although it was unlikely since he knew Arthur was coming home today. He could have let it die; Lovino always forgot to charge the blood thing. Arthur steadied himself with that logic and set his suitcase on the bed. He took a pair of shirts from the case and opened up the closet. They fell to the floor in a heap and Arthur stood frozen.

The closet was empty.

He grabbed his coat and shoved the phone into one of the pockets. There was pub a few blocks away that Lovino loved to go to. The Italian had even made a few friends there. If he was going to find Lovino anywhere, that was the best place to start. Arthur grabbed his umbrella from by the door and trudged out into the dreary weather. He almost couldn't stand the sound of the rain dripping off everything. It echoed the seconds he spent anxiously walking through the streets in search of Lovino worse than any clock could.

The pub was a shoddy type of place. Almost all the chairs were broken in some way, same with the tables, and the place smelled of cigar smoke. Even the sign that hung outside the place was faded and almost unreadable, and Arthur was sure it was a front for drugs. He didn't even know why Lovino liked the place so much. The Italian liked beautiful things, and the place was so trashy that Arthur doubted even his own brothers would drink there. But despite the interior, Lovino went to the pub everyday without fail. The Italian would always come home smelling of cigars and Arthur would make some crack about the smell. He really couldn't understand why Lovino would go there. They had more than enough money to go to a fancy bar in town, but Lovino chose the sleaziest place in all of London.

"Hello," the barman said to him and polished a glass, giving him an apathetic glance. "How was the trip?"

"Hi. It was fine. Thank you for asking, Lars," Arthur said quickly and looked around. The pub was empty. "Is Lovino here?"

"No. I haven't seen him all week." Lars watched him closely. Lars was a tall man with striking green eyes, and a taste for money. There wasn't much he particularly cared about if it didn't involve money or the soliciting of money. Lovino once told him that the man would probably sell his own sister for the right price. The barman was probably the best thing about the abominable pub, because if Lars knew anything, it was how to run a business; no matter how pathetic the establishment was. Arthur could respect a man like that, seeing as they were cut from the same cloth, only he ran on a more shady level.

"Did something happen?"

"I don't know. He wasn't at home and... I don't know where he is." Arthur shook his head. "There are other places I need to look. If he comes here, please tell him I'm looking for him." He turned to leave.

"Wait, if Lovino's missing, then I guess there's something I should probably tell you."

"You know where he is?" Arthur sat in one of the stools.

The barman poured him a glass of scotch. "No. I don't know if this means anything, but a week back Lovino was in here like he always is. While he was in the bathroom, a man came in asking for him. He looked like he'd forgotten his umbrella and dripped all over my floor. The guy said he was Lovino's cousin, but I don't think he was. Lovino took one look at him and he got that look on his face. The one he gets every time he gets fired from a job. Anyway, Lovino kept asking him why he was here and why he wasn't somewhere else. He seemed angry with the guy, angrier than he usually is. After talking with him a bit, Lovino left with him and let's just say it wasn't in the direction of your house. That was the last I saw of Lovino."

Arthur frowned deeply. Lovino had never told him about a cousin, especially not one he hated. Then again, Lovino never had told him much about his life before they met. The most Arthur knew about Lovino was that he had a younger brother. The brunet never mentioned his other family members or friends, and somehow managed to always avoid answering whenever Arthur brought up the topic. "What did he look like?"

"It's been a week. I'm not sure..." Lars rubbed his chin, perplexed, but his expression quickly cleared when Arthur placed a twenty in the tip jar. "Curly brown hair, green eyes. He smiled a lot and seemed a little more fond of Lovino than a cousin should be. I think he was Spanish, because he kept calling Lovino things like 'mi corazón' and 'lindo.' Lovino called him Antonio, along with some more colorful language."

"Antonio...I've never heard of him." Arthur finished off the scotch. "Did you catch a last name?"

Lars shook his head. "That's all I know. I hope it helps. Lovino's the only costumer that isn't a perpetual drunk."

"Thank you. Even if it ends up being nothing, it's a start." Arthur stood and walked out. Once outside of the pub, he took out his phone and flipped through his contacts until he found the person he was looking for.

"Hey, Gilbert." Arthur walked quickly down the sidewalk. "Are you at the office? If not, get there."

"Fuck, what do you want? I thought you were in France."

"I got back today, remember. I want you to find an Antonio for me."

Gilbert snorted. "I'm going to need more than that. Got a last name?"

"No. He's a Spaniard, came to London about a week ago. I want you to check hotels within walking distance of the shabby pub Lovino always goes to."

"You're not giving me a lot."

"I'm giving you all I have. If I had more, I'd be giving it to you," Arthur snapped.

"Alright, alright. I've worked with less."

"Call me when you find something. And, please, don't jack around while you're doing this."

"Yeah, yeah. What did this Antonio guy do anyway?"

"I don't know yet. Just get me the information and be ready to help me if I call again."

"Yes, your majesty. I swear, you're bossier than a—"

Arthur hung up.

He walked quickly, on the edge of a jog. Less than a block from his home, he stopped abruptly. It took him a moment to realize that there was no one waiting for him at home and no reason to go there. Hell, even a hotel would be better than sleeping in his empty bedroom. All those old feelings from before Lovino came to live with him rushed back, and that old fear of dying alone gripped him. Doubts and questions echoed around his head; things like: Would he be able to find Lovino? Was he just worrying to much? Did Lovino even want to come back? His mind sought to reason out Lovino's disappearance again, using logic to calm his worries, but he couldn't quite settle his mind. There were too many unexplained oddities.

Arthur sat down on a nearby bench, unhappy with having no direction. He took a moment to put away all his doubts and organize his thoughts. It would get him nowhere to worry and torment himself, and Arthur had never been one to wallow in despair for long. He was the type of man to get things done and solve problems without the inhibition caused by emotions.

Properly calmed, Arthur rose from the bench and walked home. He put all thoughts of Lovino out of his head and addressed the situation like he would if it was a client whose loved one had gone missing. It was easier to see the answer if he thought objectively. Although, he always did have trouble thinking clearly when Lovino was involved.

Upon entering his home, Arthur went straight to his office and turned on his computer. A few quick taps of his fingers on the keys brought up file directory. He found the file that held all the footage from the cameras placed about the flat. Lovino always told him he was paranoid to have so many surveillance devices, but Arthur knew that in his line of business, it never hurt to be too careful. When he pissed off the wrong people, which he usually does, and his flat gets burned down, he wants the person responsible to at least pay for repairs, whether they pay willingly or not.

He typed in the date for last week and skimmed through it. Lovino came in and out of the flat, speeding through his daily routine. Eventually, a stranger sped into the view. Arthur quickly rewound it and watched from the beginning.

Lovino walked in and closed the door behind him. He glanced at the camera and began walking towards it.

"So, this is where you're living now?" The stranger walked into the room.

"Goddammit, I told you to wait!" Lovino turned sharply to face the stranger, closing the distance between them with a few quick steps, and smack the stranger over the head. "Do you want to be caught, Antonio?"

"Your boyfriend's not here. What's the problem?" Antonio frowned and rubbed his head. "By the time he sees it, I'll be long gone."

Lovino walked over purposefully to the book shelf, disappearing from the shot. Lovino's hand then came into frame and pulled down the camera. "I told you, Arthur is fucking paranoid! What do you think he'll think seeing you here?"

"What do you want him to think?" Antonio grinned, but the smile soon lost its mirth. "I serious, don't roll your eyes. What do you want him to think?"

"Stop talking!" The camera turned till Lovino's face took up the shot. The brunet was scowled deeply and anger sharpened his features. "Whatever you're thinking, stop it. Antonio is my cousin and he's here to visit me. I know you probably won't believe that, but I promise he's not here to cause any trouble. Right, Antonio?"

The camera turned towards Antonio and the brunet smiled. "You don't have to worry about anything. I'll take care of Lovino while you're gone."

"Shut up!" The camera spun to face Lovino again. "Don't listen to him, Arthur. Anyway, I have to turn off the camera. We have to talk about somethings that aren't any of your business. You can bitch at me about it later."

Arthur scowled as the screen went black, and quickly switched over to a different camera. Arthur, being his prudent self, didn't tell Lovino about all the cameras. It wasn't that he didn't trust Lovino to stay true, he just didn't trust him to keep the cameras on. Those cameras were there for a reason, although Lovino was never very fond of them. When the brunet had found the first one, he'd gotten so panicked and angry that he tore apart the flat looking for the others. Arthur had to take them down for a month just to get Lovino to relax again.

The image came back on from a different angle. Lovino's back was to him and he was placing the camera back on the bookshelf.

"Will he be mad?" Antonio flopped into Arthur's chair.

"Yes. Arthur doesn't like secrets. It's why he likes cameras as much as I hate them. I guess it makes sense, considering how he is."

"Why did you choose such a control freak? You hate being controlled."

"He's not that bad. He knows where the boundaries are, and you can't blame him for being paranoid." Lovino sat down on the couch. "Anyway, enough about Arthur. How did you you find me?"

"When you met Arthur, I had a feeling that would be the last time I saw you if I didn't keep track of you. I guess I was right since you disappeared from Rome and built yourself a nice little life in London." Antonio looked almost guilty, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt rather than looking at Lovino. "I have a preposition."

"No." Lovino jerked to his feet, his hands flying up to accentuate his words. "No. No! I'm out! Retired! Gone! I don't care what the job is, I don't fucking want it!"

"You don't even know what it is." Antonio pouted.

"I don't care. I'm not in that business anymore." Lovino fell back onto the couch, his anger burning out quickly. "I have a normal life, Antonio, and someone who loves me."

A flash of longing crossed Antonio's face. "You've always had someone who loves you."

"Then someone who I love back," Lovino snapped harshly. The brunet looked away quickly. "I'm sorry. I just never expected to see you again."

"You knew you couldn't hide forever." Antonio seemed almost apologetic. "You knew I would look for you when the time was up and you still hadn't shown up."

"I know."

"Are you happy here?"

Lovino nodded slowly. "I'm content."

"Don't lie to me, Romano..."

"My name is Lovino, now," the brunet said quietly.

Antonio reached out and gripped Lovino's hand. "I know getting out was hard, but it's harder to survive like other people, isn't it. For people like you and me, we belong to the twilight. Just admit it, you're not cut out for living like this. You miss the thrill and fun. You're tired of getting fired from all your jobs and so much disappointment. Go back to what you're good at."

Lovino hesitated, and Arthur held his breath. "I can't."

"Why?"

"I can't leave Arthur. This life may not make me happy, but he does and that's enough for me. He's why I didn't show up when time ran out. I could be happy with him. There's no room for happiness in the twilight. Why do you think I tried to leave?"

Antonio sighed heavily and stood. "I understand."

"But...since you're here, tell me about the job. No details, just the summary." Lovino stood also, walking with Antonio to the door.

"You know that's not how it works, mi tesero." Antonio laughed and smiled. "Goodbye, Romano. If you ever want a job..."

"I won't."

"Of course, but you know what they say...You can take yourself out of the business, but you can never take the business out of you."

Lovino was silent for a moment, but then he shook his head. "You're right for once, bastard, but I happily stay out of the business if it means staying with Arthur."

Antonio stared at Lovino for a long time, half way out the door. "Is he really worth giving up your life?"

"I wouldn't still be here if he wasn't. Goodbye, Antonio." Lovino reached out and gripped the other man's shoulder. "And don't get caught."

Antonio left and Lovino sat back down on the couch. Arthur touched the screen lightly and let out a sigh. The image of Lovino doubled over and pressed his hands to his face. He clenched his hand into a fist and gritted his teeth. His previous professional mindset fell away and the bitter taste of blame coated his tongue. Arthur remembered Lovino called him that day, which was unusual because Lovino preferred to talk to him in person or not at all. Lovino's own cell phone was merely a formality that Arthur had forced him to get. If Arthur hadn't nagged him persistently, he doubted Lovino would have bothered getting one.

Arthur rewound the video and took a screen shot of Antonio's face, quickly sending it to Gilbert. He then took out his phone and dial up another friend.

"Hello, Kiku?"

"Hello, how was your trip to Paris?" Kiku's cool voice brushed over him and Arthur felt truly calm for a moment.

"Dreary as always, but that's not what I'm calling about."

"What can I do for you?"

It was nice talking to someone without the anxiety of wondering if they'll do their job right. "Lovino's gone missing. I want you to see if you can get a hit off his phone."

There was the distant clack of keys. "Missing? Has something happened?"

"I fear he's gotten himself into some trouble. I don't know what kind of trouble, but it's not good." Arthur glanced at his computer. The little Lovino had now moved off screen to the bedroom and was currently taking a nap. "I'm going over the footage from my security cameras. Apparently, Lovino's 'cousin' decided to drop by for a visit."

"I didn't know Lovino had a cousin."

"He doesn't. Whoever that man was, he was something much closer than a cousin." Arthur bit his lip and breathed out through his nose, as the little Lovino began to make dinner. He was making pasta; Lovino's favorite dish.

"I see... Arthur, do you mind if I see that footage too? I might be able to help more."

"Of course, I'll send it over immediately. I haven't gone through it all yet, but if I watch anymore I'll drive myself crazy with worry." Arthur closed the video and sent it to his friend. "Kiku... Do you remember that background check I told you to run on Lovino?"

"The one you refused to read?"

"Yes. Was there anything..._bad_ in it?"

"Specify."

"Oh, you know... Murder, drugs, stealing?"

"Not that I remember. I would have told you if his file turned up red." Arthur could hear the frown in Kiku's voice. "Would you like me to send it to you?"

He sat back and loosened his tie. It was tempting to go through Lovino's file, but he resisted for the same reason he resisted a year ago. One couldn't found a relationship on being distrustful and deceitful. Arthur had never pried where he wasn't wanted with people he care for, and Lovino was especially touchy about his past. He didn't know what had occurred to make Lovino's past so painful for him, but he had an inkling it was the reason why he was estranged from the rest of his family. "No, no. I didn't want to know then and I don't want to know now. It'd be a violation of Lovino's privacy, and you know how dearly he treasures that."

"Alright, I'll call you if anything comes up."

"Wait, one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Was Lovino's name ever Romano?"

"What?"

"Nevermind, you'll see when you watch the video." Arthur hung up the phone quickly and let out a long sigh. He always hated this part. With his small team doing research, there was nothing left to do, but wait. They would call him when they had something.

He stared at the picture of Lovino on his desk. It was one of the rare occasions he'd been able to get a picture of Lovino smiling. It had been windy that day, but the sunny weather had followed Lovino from Italy. Behind Lovino, London was laid out like a feast of exotic foods fit for a king—fit for Lovino. Arthur could go a hundred years and never find a view as beautiful as the one he saw that day on the London Eye with Lovino. The sun reflected in Lovino's smile and in his eyes; it stole his breath away. And his heart.


	3. Chapter 3

He woke up to the ringing of his phone and hurried to pick it up.

"Hello. Who is it?" Arthur ran a hand over his face and looked at the glowing hands of his watch. It was nearing midnight, and night had fallen. He had drifted to sleep staring at Lovino's picture and it flavored his dreams with sweet nostalgia.

"It's Kiku."

"Oh. What did you find?"

"Nothing."  
Arthur frowned. "Then why did you call?"

"I didn't find anything." There was a note of distress in Kiku's voice. "Lovino's phone is off and I can't find a location on it."

"What's wrong, Kiku? Did you find something unsettling?"

"Well, you see... I did another background check on Lovino."

"And?"

"I didn't find anything."

"What's so bad about that? You didn't find anything before."

"That's not what I mean. Lovino doesn't exists anymore. None of his past is there anymore. When I first looked him up, he went to a college in Rome, but there aren't any records of him ever going there. I've been looking for his old job applications and they're mysteriously nonexistent. I don't think he ever had a job in London."

He stood and ran a hand through his hair. "Impossible. I know Lovino held jobs. He might not have held them long, but he held them."

"Arthur, Lovino never submitted an application to any jobs."

The shock settled over him and twisted in his gut like a blade. "That's not possible. He would leave in the mornings and come home in the evenings. If he wasn't working, the cameras would have picked up on if he was home."

"I have a theory about that, actually. May I take control of your computer?" Kiku didn't wait a second longer than it took for him to say yes. The monitor woke up and his mouse arrow zoomed across the screen. It opened up the file directory and pulled up the security footage again. "I was going through the video and I noticed something strange about the footage going into the next day. You have cameras on your hall, kitchen, living room, and office. Watch as Lovino passes through the hall, into the living room, and out the door."

He watched. Nothing seemed out of place. Lovino stomped down the hall like he usually did, made coffee, and was out the door with a to-go mug in hand. It was a routine he'd even witness on his days off when Lovino still had work. "I don't see what you're trying to show me."

"Um, here. Watch again. Focus on the frames before Lovino enters the picture." The video slowed to a painful pace and Arthur watched. A few moments before Lovino entered the shot, the screen darkened and came back on just as Lovino came into view. "At regular speed, it's almost unnoticeable, but this footage is fake."

"Is it wrong for me to not believe you? Lovino is technologically inept, and he hates cameras. I think I would have heard about it sooner if he'd found those cameras, not to mention he would have had to break into my computer to tamper with the video."

"Well, it's not that hard to break into a computer if you have the password, and since he was living with you, he could have easily gotten it. As for the video, he would only have to go through the day once pretending to have a job and simply program that clip to play over on specific days. He probably realized you wouldn't be checking the footage everyday and notice the repetition."

"Kiku, he would have had to think this out and have the knowledge to do this. This is Lovino we're talking about. He doesn't know how to do those things."

There was a momentary silence. "You know how Lovino was already in your flat when you arrived in London after meeting him."

"Of course." It was a story everyone knew well. He told it at every party he ever went to where Lovino came up in the conversation. It was one of the best surprises in his life.

"You always say he sweet talked the maid into letting him in."

"Yes, you know he has a way with persuasion."

"What if he didn't need to persuade anyone to get in? What if he could get in without any help?" Kiku's voice was grave and he didn't like the accusation it promised.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say, how well do you really know Lovino?"

...

...

Arthur set his phone down, but it soon rang again and with much reluctance, he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Art. Did something happen? You sound down." Gilbert voice came loudly over the phone and music played in the background. From opening and shutting of a door, Arthur guessed Gilbert had left whatever party he was at.

"No, I am fine. Why are you calling me? It's almost midnight." Arthur rubbed his fingers over his eyes wearily and stood from his desk. A horrible crick twisted in his neck, and Arthur massaged the knot futilely.

Gilbert laughed loudly. "The night is when I come alive. Anyway, I called you earlier, but you didn't pick up. It's about that Antonio."

"Did you get that picture I sent?"

"Yeah, that narrowed down the search almost immediately." Another laugh grated on his ears. "What are you doing looking for that guy? He's the dirtiest scum on the market."

"Cut the fluff and tell me who he is. If he's the dirtiest scum, how come I don't know him?"

"You're not in a good mood." The humor left Gilbert's voice. "The name is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, born in Spain. He's a con artist. Interpol has been trying to nab him for five years, but the guy always changes his appearance and disappears before they can bust 'em. So far, they've only charged him with tax fraud, but they suspect he's an opening for some dirtier dealings."

"I see..." Arthur sat back down in his chair, running a hand through his hair. He had heard of Antonio before a year ago when he was a suspect in the robbery of a Swiss bank. There had been quite a ruckus trying anyone connected to the robbery. "Anything else? Where does he usually operate?"

"He sticks to the Mediterranean coast. No clue what he's doing in London." Gilbert hesitated. "Arthur, what is this about?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow. For now, I advise you go home and go to bed. I want you at the office tomorrow early. If you're late, you're fired."

"Dammit! It's the weekend, though," whined Gilbert.

"Shut up and don't annoy me," he snapped, thoroughly silencing another whine of protest. "Goodnight, Gilbert."

"Goodnight," the man mumbled, and the line went dead.

Arthur powered off his computer and went to the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway and stared at his empty bed. The neatly made bed mocked him with its strangeness and irony. Many times he told Lovino to make the bed before he went to work, and not once did he do it. Now, after he disappeared without a word, the bed was tidy and cold. Arthur couldn't bear to look at it. He shut the door quickly and went to the living room to lay down.

There had only been few times when he'd been forced to sleep on the couch, usually due to some argument between him and Lovino. As he laid there now, it felt as though he'd been banished from Lovino's side again, only not by his own doing. Some force of evil tore Lovino from his arms and Arthur could only watch helplessly. The sorrow of not knowing plagued Arthur. He prided himself on being well informed, and yet, he was ignorant to the shadow that swept Lovino from his sight.

How could he not have known?

...

...

Arthur arrived at the Office first; night still gripped the world. The Office wasn't an especially nice place. In fact, it was quite barren of anything that would deem it an office. There were no cubicles, nor was it clean and impersonal. The walls were cold cement and blackened from an "unfortunate" fire a few years back. Only three desks lined the walls, one for each of his team. Gilbert's desk spilled over with papers and trash, while Kiku's, though neat, grew wires and monitors over every free space. His own desk seemed boring when compared to his coworkers. A few pictures of Lovino sat next to a pile of books to read when they were between jobs. On the wall, hung a monitor used show pictures and information to everyone.

The last object of the office was a large white board, which held the details of every job as it came across his desk. He preferred to have his thoughts spread out before him, all in the open where he could see them. The first thing to go on the board was Lovino, along with a photo and a list of questions. Next, Antonio and the questions pertaining to him. Arthur sat back in a chair and stared at the board. There was still too little on it to form a full picture of the job, but a small amount of relief came from seeing it all in front of him.

After an hour of staring at Lovino's face on the board, Arthur decided he couldn't bare to see it up there where killers, thieves, and adulterers should be. He took down the photo and left the space blank. Seeing it blank wasn't much better, but it was the best he could do.

Kiku entered the office first, dressed in his usual suit. He sat quietly at his desk, but Arthur could feel his dark eyes on the back of his neck.

"How much did you sleep last night?" It was an innocent question, lined with concern, but Arthur took it badly.

"What does it matter how much I slept? We have a job to do," he said curtly. "Have you found anything new?"

"Let's wait for Gilbert before we start working. Have you eaten breakfast?" Kiku took his harsh reply gracefully by ignoring it completely. The calm man knew him well enough to know he didn't mean to lash out.

"No. I'm fine, though."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"It doesn't matter."

Kiku gave him a look and Arthur averted his eyes to the nearly empty whiteboard.

"Don't give me that look."

"Then don't give me a reason to."

He let out a long breath and ran a hand over his face. "I know—I'm sorry. I'm just tired. All of this..."

"It's alright, Arthur. We'll find him." Kiku let a small reassuring smile pull up his lips. "If anyone can find him, we can."

Arthur only nodded. They were good at what they do. They were the best. He had no doubt they would find Lovino; he only feared what they would find when they did.

"Knock, knock!" Gilbert strode in, his arms laden with fast food bags. "I brought food."

"Thank you, Gilbert." Kiku helped lay out the food on an extra table. "Eat something, Arthur."

Though it was tempting to argue, Arthur took a breakfast biscuit without a word. He would need the energy if he planned to find Lovino and still be sane by the end of it.

"So, anyone gonna brief me on the job?" Gilbert drank coffee out of a mug, moving in front of the whiteboard. An ungodly noise came from the back of Gilbert's throat as he started chocking on his coffee and he broke down into a fit of coughing. Once he recovered, the blond rasped, "Why is Lovino's name up there?"

"He's gone missing," Kiku answered for him. Arthur merely sat at his desk, staring at the picture of Lovino.

"What? You sure he's not just out at a friend's?"

"He took everything with him," Arthur said quietly. He felt Gilbert's eyes on him, but he took a bite from his biscuit and put the picture of Lovino face down. He couldn't stand to look at the frozen smile when his mind whirled with worry.

Kiku resumed briefing Gilbert quietly and set him on the job of watching the footage from his flat. Arthur stared at the sooty cement walls, unseeing. He knew he should be focusing on the job, but terrible imaginings tortured him and Arthur found himself unable to move. What if someone had kidnapped Lovino for not taking whatever job Antonio wanted him for? What if Lovino decided he was unhappy with Arthur and did want the job? What if someone had taken Lovino to punish him? What if, what if. There were too many what if's.

"Boss, Art, Arthur." Gilbert finally leaned over and poked him to catch his attention.

"What?" snapped Arthur and blinked, startled by his own harshness. "I'm sorry. Did you find something?"

Gilbert simply shrugged off the snap. "I've been looking at the video."

"And?"

"There's something about the way Antonio says 'the twilight.' It's almost like he's referring to it as an actual thing, a place even, rather than a metaphor. And the way Lovino reacts to it," Gilbert pointed at the screen and played over the clip, and the image of Lovino's face twisted with dread for a split second. "He's definitely not happy about Antonio mentioning it."

The new information shove other thoughts out of his mind. He'd heard that phrase somewhere before, and not just out of a cliche movie. "The Twilight, huh..." Arthur went up and wrote the word on the board.

"Perhaps, it means something in Italian," suggested Kiku. "Lovino is Italian after all."

Gilbert typed on his computer. "It means... Oh fuck."

"What? Finish your bloody sentence."

"_Il Crepuscolo_."

He looked at Gilbert sharply, gripping the marker in his hand tightly. "Are you sure?"

The blond nodded grimly.

_Il Crepuscolo_ was a highly organized ring of thieves, ruthless and efficient. Not much was known about them besides that. No one knew who they were, where they came from, nor how many there were. Most of their heists weren't discovered until weeks, even months after the heist. Their name came from the time period every heist took place. They weren't even on the radar until they pulled a robbery on a Swiss bank, although the attack on the bank turned out to be a distraction to rob a completely different bank. A few nobodies were caught, but everyone of them either escaped and disappeared or died of mysterious causes. That was a year ago, and the Interpol still hadn't found anymore leads or witnesses. _Il Crepuscolo_ had completely fallen off the map since then, and no one breathed a word about them. Arthur assumed after such a big pay load, they disbanded and were now living somewhere without a care in the world.

"Lovino couldn't be part of that." It was Gilbert who spoke, shaking his head in disbelief. "I mean... This is Lovino we're talking about."

"Even I think that's a bit...far fetched," said Kiku, his eyebrows drawn with worry. "It's one thing to tamper with footage and disappear; he could have hired someone to do that for him, but I don't think Lovino could be part of something quite that complicated. I know what I said before, but _Il Crespuscolo_ is something completely different."

Arthur said nothing. He didn't want to believe any of it. He didn't want any of this to be happening right now. He wanted to be home in bed with Lovino like he planned, making up for time lost with kissing and sex. Only his pride kept him on task. "What do we know about _Il Crepuscolo_?"

"What kind of question is that? No one knows shit about them." Gilbert spun around in his chair, bringing a fist down on the desk.

Kiku let out a small hum. "There is one known member. Interpol recovered a few pictures from the crime scene."

A picture popped up on the wall monitor of a man's face. The man hung from a rope ladder attached to a helicopter as he made his get away. His hair was bright blond, like spun gold, and a large pair of sunglasses took up most of his face. He wore a white suit, one side splattered with the blood of a poor guard, and a pink scarf around his neck. It was the gaudiest outfit Arthur had ever seen and that was saying something considering both Francis and Lovino had a taste for anything designer. He might have accused the picture of being a joke were it not for the blood and pistol in the man's hand. The man had spotted the photographer just in time to blow a kiss at the camera, his lips frozen in a pucker and gun pointed at the camera man.

"This is Flavio Vento. His real name is unknown. His history is unknown. His location is unknown. He is the face of _Il Crepuscolo_, but his role in the group is—"

"Unknown," interrupted Gilbert. "We got it, the guy's a ghost."

"He's not a ghost so much as he is...elusive." Kiku pulled up a few more pictures. "He surfaces every now and again in the months before a robbery. I believe he's a scout to check out a target before _Il Crepuscolo_ robs it. No one ever noticed him before this latest bank. They really went all out and completely deviated from their usual M.O. for this last burglary. He's the only thing that connects all the robberies to _Il Crepuscolo_."

"That's a bit sloppy, don't you think?" Arthur stared at the picture and frowned. He didn't like the way Flavio looked. He seemed too obnoxious and deranged.

"Not really." Kiku pulled up footage from what looked like the inside of a bank. "He knows what he's doing. He avoids looking at any of the cameras. That first photo is the only shot where you see his full face. This man is a professional."

"Does he always wear those bloody sunglasses?" Arthur scowled, shoving his dislike away. It wasn't the time to bother with trouble if they didn't need to. "Nevermind. Leave L'Crepuscolo alone for now and focus on Antonio. We know he's been in contact with Lovino. Let's find him and God help me if he knows where Lovino is..."

His team got to work immediately. Gilbert checked police reports and Kiku ran checks on subway and airport security cameras for Antonio. Arthur felt a small bit of pride for their efficiency and also a bit of boredom. His part wouldn't come until much later when they had a location and all that was left to do was the actual groundwork. Until then, Arthur could only sit, watch his team work, and think.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

**How are ya'll liking this story? At the moment, this is the story I'm writing most for. Everything else is kinda on hold.**

**-_Windy_**


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn't the best of hotel rooms he'd ever stayed at. However, it was by far better than most. No bugs or rodents greeted him upon opening the door, though it smelled like cigarettes and cheap air freshener. Tacky wallpaper covered the walls and cobwebs hung in the corners, probably due to the elderly maid's inability to reach them. He would simply have to do living there for a few weeks.

"I don't see why you can't just leave."

"I don't know why you haven't been caught yet," Lovino mumbled under his breath and let out a sigh. "Because, like I fucking said before, Arthur will be looking for me. There's a reason why he's so good at what he does, dammit. To hide from a hound like him, I simply have to stay under his nose."

"I know." Antonio pouted slightly and sat on the bed. "I just wish we could go already. Everyone is waiting."

"And they can wait a while longer. I have to make sure he doesn't follow me." Lovino set his suit case on the bed. It only contained a few changes of clothes. Everything he'd taken from Arthur's, he sold. "I told you the plan before I even fucking came to London."

"But that was such a long time ago and you abandoned the plan for that hound dog."

He threw a shoe at the Spaniard, pissed off by his whining. "Just shut up. I'm back on track now. It won't be long, a few weeks at most. Then we'll meet up with the others."

"But Arthur isn't going to ever find you. You're too clever."

"I just have to make sure. If Arthur's chasing after us, we won't be able to do anything. He's smarter than you think."

"What is he going to find you with? You cleared the apartment of everything, wiped the computer footage. What does he know about you that could possible help him find you?" Antonio gave him a look that said he was right, but Lovino looked away.

"If anyone could do it, he could. Lovino may be dead, but anything he manages to uncover will lead him to Flavio." Lovino turned on Antonio, glaring sternly. "If Arthur follows us, our plans will be ruined. So, unless you want that, just shut and do what I fucking tell you. I haven't been wrong before."

Antonio looked away. "Lo siento... I just don't understand why this guy is so important. It would have been easier to kill him."

Lovino rolled his eyes. "It would have been suspicious, especially since his friends are police and government workers."

"Fine...but I still think you should have at least cleaned out his bank account." Antonio snagged him around the waist, pulling him closer. "It would have been a more convincing way of leaving him."

"I think that would have been a bit harsh. In spite of all his bad qualities, Arthur wasn't so bad. I did build a life with him for a while." He didn't protest to Antonio hugging him. It had been awhile since they last saw each other. The Spaniard deserved a little tolerance.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you really cared for him." Antonio grinned up at him, but there was a slight edge in his smile that concerned Lovino. "I'm glad you came to your senses about staying with him."

"Of course, I came to my senses, dammit. What does he have to offer me that I couldn't get? You know he was just a cover, a boring one at that. I miss the thrill of having a job I can keep and a lover who knows what he's doing." He forced a grin smoothly on to his face and gave Antonio a light kiss. The Spaniard pulled him down for a longer kiss, taking his time to thoroughly ravage Lovino's mouth.

"I've forgotten how good you are at kissing," Lovino said once they parted, both a bit breathless. Antonio was a man of pride and at the moment, Lovino needed to convince him things hadn't changed between them.

"And I've forgotten how good you taste." Antonio pressed his lips to his neck feverishly, working off his clothes. Lovino considered pushing him away, but rejecting Antonio now would mean jeopardizing the efficiency of his plans. Despite how much he wished to deny it, Lovino did need Antonio if he was to succeed.

The sex was fast, passionate. Antonio wasted no time devouring him, drinking him up like a man thirsting for water. Lovino experienced it all through a surreal haze. He floated above the bed, watching his body writhe against the sheets and arch with pleasure. The entire experience was familiar, but after so long sleeping with only one man, each touch felt new and different.

He'd almost completely forgotten what it felt like to be with Antonio. It was all passion, burning into his skin, setting him aflame with pleasure. Arthur was passionate, but not quite the same way as Antonio. He didn't burn through him like a wildfire. He washed over him in waves he was powerless to fight, stroking his body gently and sweeping him away with the current. Lovino could only follow the flow and hope he didn't drown. That scared him most about Arthur—drowning in him. He didn't need to fear that from Antonio, because even when he was done, Lovino still survived, though a little singed. Antonio eventually burned out, but Arthur continued to pull at his body long after the breath had left him, filling him up with... With what? Love. Arthur's love and his own fear.

_Arthur... No. Antonio._

The names jumbled on his lips, a confusing mess of syllables. He doubted Antonio understood him or even caught his mistake, but Lovino knew what nearly flew off his lips. It should have scared him, almost making such a stupid mistake. Lovino brushed it off as a habit picked up from his time with Arthur.

"You're...different," Antonio said against his neck, panting out the words softly.

"What..." Lovino mumbled, not quite hearing him in his post-sex haze.

"You've changed." Antonio lifted himself off Lovino to look at his face.

"Goddammit, Antonio..." Lovino shifted slightly, blushing at the discomfort in his ass. "Don't say such weird things when you're still inside me."

Antonio laughed and pulled away completely, laying beside him. The Spaniard wrapped his arms around Lovino, bringing him back against his chest. "I'm being serious, though. You're different from before."

"What do you expect? I spent an entire year fucking one man. I'm use to him."

"Was he any good in bed?" Antonio's breath tickled his ear and Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Jealous?"

"Yes."

It was his turn to laugh. "You're an idiot."

"But you still love me." Antonio planted a kiss on the back of his neck, holding him tighter.

"Bastard..." Lovino stared at the ugly wallpaper and bit his lip, grateful Antonio couldn't see his face. The previous him would have called Antonio a bastard too, but the affection that would have went with the term didn't feel right anymore.

"That's enough cuddling." He sat up and used a towel from the bathroom to clean himself up. When Lovino came out of the bathroom, he grabbed his shirt off the ground and put it on. "You need to get going."

"Why? I miss holding you." Antonio wrapped his arms around him and brought him close again. "Arthur won't find us in a few hours. He's not even in the country. Let us have this just a little while longer." The Spaniard kissed his neck, running hot hands under his shirt, and pulled him back to the bed.

"I'm serious. Arthur thinks I'm sitting at home like a good little wife. Once he finds out I'm gone, he's going to drive himself fucking crazy looking for me. The longer you stay here, the more likely he is to find the both of us."

The Spaniard let out an exaggerated sigh, kissing his hair. "Wife, huh? Arthur really doesn't know anything about you, does he."

"Of course not." Lovino frowned. Arthur had tried more than once to pry information from him to the point most of their fights stemmed from Lovino's inability to trust. The Brit had tried every tactic imaginable, short of torture (Although it was torture for Lovino to constantly dodge every prodding question and fight over something so petty) to get it out of him. Luckily, Lovino was better at holding his alcohol than Arthur. "That's not how the game works."

"I know...but wasn't he ever curious?"

"Unlike you, Arthur doesn't ask questions he doesn't want to know the answers to." Not directly, at least. Lovino glared at Antonio, pushing him back with one hand. "He wanted a loving, sweet boyfriend and that's what I gave him. The bastard wouldn't fuck it up by asking questions."

"Loving? Sweet?" Antonio laughed. "Who was he fucking? Because it certainly wasn't you."

Lovino kicked Antonio off the bed. "Shut up, you fucking asshole! I know how to act when I need to!"

"I know, I know._ Lo siento_." Antonio smiled at him over the edge of the bed, his face shinning brightly. "I've really missed you."

He turned his face away, knowing Antonio would take it as a concession of his feelings. Disgust twisted his mouth, but Lovino smoothed it over before he looked back at Antonio.

"You need to get going to Moscow. Arthur will look for you. Give him the run around through the north. He probably won't be fooled, but it'll distract him long enough to let me get back to Rome. When I send you the message, you can drop off and join me in Rome."

"Righto, Romano," said Antonio, stressing the ending vowel. The brunet stood up, smiling his silly grin, and got dressed. "I love it when you talk business. It's so sexy."

"And no short cuts. If Arthur catches your ass, I'm not bailing it out. Once that bastard has you in his sights, you won't see that bullet coming until it's through your empty head and what little brains you have are splattered on the wall. _Entiendes_? Arthur is not a hound to fool around with." Lovino jabbed a finger in his direction, hoping the Spaniard would understand the seriousness of Arthur's anger. "Arthur's gonna be fucking pissed and you're gonna be the one to take it if he catches you."

"He's not going to actually shoot me, is he?" Antonio laughed lightly, but his eyes were serious. The Spaniard didn't like guns, especially when they were pointed at him. Something to do with an accident and his brother. Lovino didn't care enough to ask for the whole story.

"There's no way to tell if he's angry enough. Arthur has a vicious temper." Memories of shattered glass, red-faced anger, raised voices flashed through his head. There were few things about Arthur that impressed him, but his anger was one of them. His temper almost rivaled Lovino's and when they went at it, the entire room shook with their voices.

"Noted." Antonio put on his shoes, while Lovino pulled on his underwear.

"Repeat the plan."

"Run around. Wait for your message."

"And?"

The Spaniard gave him a questioning look. "Don't get caught?"

"Good boy. Now get out of here." Lovino pushed Antonio to the door.

"Rough as always. Good thing I like that." Antonio grinned and kissed him. "See you in Rome."

"Just don't get caught. I need you for this." He closed the door before Antonio could start gushing over him. That was one thing about Antonio he didn't miss. The bastard always got too worked up about the small moments when Lovino admitted some amount of affection.

Lovino turned away from the door and began unpacking his suit case into the closet. His hands hesitated over a small book at the bottom of his suit case. It was a poetry book, given to him by Arthur. The blond always nagged him to read it, because Lovino didn't care much for reading and Arthur did. He had yet to even open the front page, which was selfish considering how beautiful it was. The cover was light blue linen, the color of the sky, and a flower was embroidered on the cover. Lovino suspected Arthur had done the stitching himself, considering it was just the kind of romantic thing Arthur would do, but the blond always denied it when he asked.

He didn't know why he had bothered to grab it out of all things he could have taken. It would have been smarter to sell it with everything else; less unneeded weight to slow him down, but Lovino couldn't think to leave it. Though he'd never even opened it, Arthur gave it to him.

It reminded him of Arthur.

Lovino grabbed the book and threw it violently into the trash can, knocking it over with the force. He sat down on the bed and ran a hand through his hair, fingering the strands thoughtfully. His hand traveled to his neck, feeling the absent place where his necklace once hung. He'd lost the gold cross on the day Arthur left and trashed the apartment looking for it. Lovino never found it and he couldn't look anymore when Antonio came for him. It had been a gift from his brother—an object to hold his brother's wish for Lovino's happiness—a wish that was never fulfilled, though it'd come close many times. He'd worn that necklace through the good times and the bad ones, somehow managing to avoid losing it as he had lost many other things. That necklace was his reminder that life existed outside his own and darkness didn't always block out the sun.

Lovino eventually accepted that it was best he lost the necklace. If Arthur ever found it, it seemed proper that the necklace stayed with his closest attempt at achieving a life beyond the Twilight. Though the necklace symbolized the wish for a better life, Lovino had long given up on that. Arthur managed to revive his hope, if only for a short time. It'd been nice to feel lighter—almost happy. However, he knew his habits and he knew it wouldn't last. He was right. Unfortunately.

After a moment of quiet, he retrieved the book and placed it back in the suit case, storing away both items in the dark of the closet.

This was bad. He knew it was. Lovino wasn't in control of himself and it showed. His emotions were going too far. He was going too far. Cracks were appearing, putting him in a dangerous, irrational state. He couldn't function if his emotion were running haywire, and he most certainly couldn't finish the job. Lovino took his emotions and pushed them down and down until he could hardly feel them. He couldn't let them waste anymore of his time. There wasn't anymore time _to_ waste. Lovino rose from the bed, grabbed a box he'd bought earlier, and went to the bathroom.

He couldn't waste anymore time being himself.

...

...

Rain drops splatted themselves against his sunglasses and Lovino adjusted his umbrella to block the drops. It'd been raining for a few days now and he absolutely hated it. He despised the rain and therefore, despised London. He couldn't stand the tall buildings blocking out whatever bit of a gray sky there was and all the people walked too quickly, barely sparing a glance to other strangers. The entire city loomed dark and stiffly over him and Lovino resented the repressiveness. He counted down the days until he could finally leave for his beautiful Rome again. It'd been too long since he last set eyes on it.

Lovino glanced at his phone impatiently. A small dot on the screen steadily wove through the streets growing closer and closer. It pulled up in the form of a taxi and his dot stepped out.

The blond quickly paid the driver and got his suit case from the trunk. Arthur rushed up the steps, fumbling to unlock the door in his haste and disappeared inside. _Welcome home,_ Lovino thought and took this moment to cross the street and hide in the shadow of the stair. Normally he wouldn't hide so close, but Lovino knew Arthur well enough to know he wouldn't be spotted immediately.

As expected, Arthur came rushing out a few minutes later. The Brit walked briskly, looking as though he'd break into a run at any moment. Panicked edged on his expression and Lovino could tell Arthur was fighting to keep his composure. Arthur always had been one to keep a tight grip on his emotions and his heart. Even Lovino had trouble slipping his way past the walls Arthur kept around himself.

Once Arthur rounded the corner, Lovino pressed his phone to his ear. "He's coming your way. Keep him there at least five minutes and tell him about Antonio."

"Got it." Nothing more needed to be said. Lars knew his job and he could do it well. Lovino wouldn't have hired him if he couldn't.

Lovino ended the call and quickly slid up the steps. He let himself into the house and closed the door behind him. Lovino moved swiftly, heading straight to Arthur's office, and slipped on his gloves. He couldn't afford to get reckless and leave any unnecessary fingerprints.

A few quick taps allowed him into Arthur's private computer. He took a USB from his pocket and plugged it into the computer. Lovino grabbed a file from the window and placed it in the recycle bin. It immediately began a download into the computer and he jerked the USB from the slot when it finished. His phone vibrated with a warning: Arthur was on the move.

He shut down the computer and closed the door to the office. He had approximately four minutes before Arthur would be in sight of the front door. Lovino turned to leave, but paused mid-step. He'd been putting off bugging Arthur's computer until the last minute, because Lovino couldn't stand leaving again. It was easy enough with Antonio there, but now he was on his own. It was up to him alone to leave.

The seconds counted off in his head and Lovino spun on his heel, practically running into the bedroom. He had told himself he wasn't going to do this, but even as Lovino reminded himself he was acting stupidly, he pulled an envelope from his coat and shoved it between the bed and the wall. Lovino knew Arthur. He wouldn't find the envelope until Lovino was long gone and had covered his tracks.

Even though he knew this, it was risky. He couldn't afford to act recklessly, but that's exactly what he was doing with leaving such an obvious clue. _It won't lead him anywhere_, Lovino tried to reassure himself and fled the bedroom before he could waste more time.

Two minutes; hardly the closest call he'd ever had.

He threw himself out the door in a panic and ran into a nearby alley. Lovino collapsed against the wall, taking in large gulps of air. The shaking started in his hands and ran up his arms until his entire body quaked from the tremors. If he didn't calm down, he might degrade into a full panic attack, yet Lovino struggled to breath—struggled to face the fact he would never enter the home he'd made again as Lovino.

Lovino pulled the sunglasses off his nose and rubbed his eyes, finally gaining control of his breathing. His legs hesitated, but he forced them to take a step and then another. The rain dripped into his hair; Lovino ignored it and pushed his sunglasses back on. He didn't bother pulling out his umbrella, and walked quickly down the sidewalk. There wasn't much time to drown in self pity now that Arthur had returned to London, especially now that he might have screwed up his entire plan with a panic-induced bad decision.

He went through his mental check list. With Arthur's computer bugged and Antonio running loose around Europe. There was only one thing left to do:

Disappear.


	5. Chapter 5

Months passed, winter came again, and not a single lead surfaced. Lovino's bank accounts remained untouched and he didn't show up on any of their searches. Arthur had Kiku checking the IDs of people leaving the country daily and Lovino had yet to appear. He drove himself mad checking every hole and under every rock looking for Lovino. With no other distractions, that's all he could do, lest the despair and worry catch up with him.

He spent more nights at the Office and less time at home the longer he searched for Lovino. His team showed increasing concern the more days that passed, but he couldn't give up. Arthur knew no man could just disappear. It was only a matter of time before something came up—before someone made a mistake. When that happened, he'd be there to catch it. This game couldn't go on forever and Arthur had long mastered the skills to win it. This was his game and no one would beat him at it.

"Have you been here all night?" Kiku's face came into view, blurred and unrecognizable.

Arthur snapped from his sleepless trance with the wall and glanced at his watch. It was seven in the morning. He'd spent the night at the Office again without even noticing. "Ah, it would seem so. I hadn't even noticed."

"I see." Kiku disappeared out of his view and came back with a mug of steaming tea. "Drink this."

"Thank you." He let the drink warm him and resumed his listless stare with the wall.

"How have you been sleeping?" His friend pulled up a chair next to him and set a comforting hand on his shoulder; Arthur barely felt it.

"Fine." Arthur looked down at the tea and nearly dropped the mug when Lovino's eyes flashed across his gaze. He set the mug down hard and his hand found the cross around his neck. Lovino's necklace had become an item of solace for him and Arthur never took it off. It was his last connection to Lovino. The Italian always wore it (before Arthur stole it) and there was almost never a moment when Lovino was without it. Arthur concluded long ago that the necklace held some sort of importance to Lovino, though when asked, Lovino would always avoid answering like he avoided answering anything with importance. He remembered Lovino would rub it between his fingers whenever stress or anger threatened to overwhelm him, mumbling some prayer in his native tongue or curses; Arthur couldn't tell the difference and Lovino used both frequently. The necklace absorbed Lovino's negative emotions and Arthur hoped it would do the same for him. Perhaps that's why he took it in the first place. Of course, he would have returned it and faced Lovino's anger...if Lovino had stayed.

"You haven't been sleeping," Kiku observed.

"No, I haven't," Arthur admitted. There was no use in lying, Kiku made his living out of watching and understanding people.

"I think you need to go home and sleep in your bed."

"But the case..."

"Arthur."

"Yes, you're right." Arthur stood and slipped on his coat. "I'll be in again tomorrow. Probably by early afternoon."

"Take as long as you need. Gilbert and I can take care of things."

Silence passed between them, Arthur stared fixed on the nearly empty white board. For awhile, they'd had a map up tracking Antonio as he made it across northern Europe, but Arthur had quickly realized Antonio was acting as a decoy to distract them from something else. He still had yet to find out what he was being distracted from, but Antonio dropped off the map a little while after he figured out the trick, leaving him frustrated and without any leads.

"Arthur."

He looked back at Kiku. "Yes?"

"I think it's time we move on to a new case."

He didn't say anything, wishing this moment had never come, though knowing it was long due.

"You know the case has gone stale. Any leads would have surfaced months ago and keeping the case open is just hurting you." Kiku's eyes looked at him with concern, but Arthur could only feel a detachment from the situation. "If you want, I can keep a search open for Lovino, but we cannot waste anymore time actively looking for him. You need to face that he's gone."

"Kiku... What is our job?" Arthur turned away from his friend.

"To find people," Kiku said hesitantly.

"How am I suppose to do my job if I can't find one _bloody_ Italian?" Arthur's voice rose and he slammed his fist into the nearest thing to him. It was the wall. His hand smarted.

"I don't think Lovino was a regular Italian," Kiku replied calmly, unfazed by his display of anger.

"You think, you don't think. I don't care anymore. I'm tired, Kiku." Arthur shook his head. The anger leaving him in a whoosh. "You do what you _think_ is best. I won't fight you on whatever decision you make."

Arthur walked out after that. He didn't know where he went. He just walked. London loomed up around him, dark and unfamiliar to him. In the back of his mind, he remember how much Lovino hated this city. The Italian thought he couldn't tell, but Arthur saw the disgust in his eyes every time they went out. He wondered if Lovino resented him for living in London. Sometimes he resented himself for it, mostly he couldn't imagine himself living elsewhere.

He wandered the city aimlessly, yet with direction. Arthur found himself in front of Lars' bar, staring at the dark windows. It took him a moment to read the sign posted on the door.

**Gone Out of Business**

**Sorry**

It'd been months since he last stopped by Lars' bar. There was no way he could have known of it closing. He hardly paid attention to anything anymore, it seemed. From the faded letters and worn paper, Arthur suspected the bar had been closed for sometime. He moved on, seeing as there was nothing for him, and walked home.

His home was empty, as expected. He grabbed a bottle of scotch from the cabinet and plopped down on the sofa, taking off the top and pressing the bottle to his lips. The drink burned as it slid down his throat, settling warmly in his stomach. It took awhile before the alcohol began to hit him, but he felt it as soon as it did. His head went into the clouds and heavy velvet settled over his limbs. It occurred to him he should go to bed, but he needed to be much more drunk if he were to enter the bedroom.

_Why the hell are you drinking?_ a voice inside his head asked, sounding strangely like Lovino.

"Because I need to." Arthur pressed the bottle to his head and stretched out. Lovino never did like when he drank. He always said it made him look ugly.

_Drinking won't change a damn thing_, the voice reasoned.

"Don't care. It feels good."

_Really?_

"No, but it's better than nothing." Arthur drowned out the voice with a long gulp of scotch. He'd grown use to these conversations in his head, useless banter to block out the silence of Lovino's absence. Only a few months (more like eight months) alone and he was already going batshit crazy, as Gilbert would say. He could barely stand it. The traces left of Lovino stabbed him every way he turned and Arthur never handled his emotions very well when he wasn't ignoring them, which he sadly couldn't do when Lovino was involved. Lovino had wedged himself too deeply into his heart and Arthur was only feeling the pain of it now. He knew when he first met Lovino that this man could either build him up or destroy him. Yet, Arthur still let Lovino infiltrate his inner most feelings and thoughts. There was no one to blame for his suffering but himself, not even Lovino could take the blame.

He closed his eyes and let the alcohol sweep him away from the empty rooms and loneliness. Soon, he was somewhere else. Music played gently in the background, some lulling jazz; the old stuff that anyone hardly listened to anymore but Lovino seemed to love. He sat in his chair and opened his eyes to a perfect view of the kitchen, where Lovino swayed and danced around. The Italian undoubtedly knew he was watching, but chose not to mind. Arthur found it endearing. There weren't many times when Lovino let himself relax and drop his ever-present guard. Only when it was just them, alone like this, did the Italian truly let his walls down.

"Lovino," he called softly, smiling.

"Hm?" His lover cleaned his hands and poured two glasses of wine. Lovino seemed convinced that a glass of wine after every meal was crucial to one's health.

"What do you think of my job? Being a private detective and such."

Lovino approached with the glasses and handed him one. His face was carefully kept blank, but brown eyes appraised him in their intense way. "I think you work too fucking much."

"That's not what I meant." He smiled, sipping the strong liquid. Lovino always did prefer his wine dark and pungent.

An exaggerated sigh blew through Lovino's lips and formed a pout. The Italian took a seat on the ground, resting his chin on Arthur's knee. "Why are you asking, _sole mio_?"

"I'm curious. Won't you answer me honestly?" Arthur rested a hand on Lovino's head, running his fingers through the thick locks.

"You ask too many questions, dammit." Another sigh escaped, but a coldness flashed over Lovino's face. "You could have been something better. You could have done something..."

"Like?"

The pout on Lovino's lips deepened. "You could have been a writer or lawyer—God knows how much you love to argue. You could have been anything you wanted, yet you chose to be a fucking detective." A hint of desperation entered Lovino's voice, almost hidden under a layer of irritation.

"Why do you say that? Being a private detective isn't the worst thing I could do."

"You're shitty at it." Lovino raised a hand when he began to protest. "You are the best in the business, yes, but your job takes so much. Things would be much easier if you had a different job."

He smiled sadly. "There wouldn't be much difference. I'd still work long hours. I'd still have to write long reports. I'd still drink too much tea."

Lovino didn't laugh at his attempt to lighten the mood and shook his head, taking a long sip of wine.

"What would you have me be if I wasn't a detective?" Arthur didn't like Lovino's trouble expression. It was hidden well under a mask of annoyance, but Arthur knew Lovino well enough to know when he was trying to hide his true feelings.

"A thief."

Arthur laughed loudly. "Really?"

Lovino's lips turned up into a dark, bitter smile, which seemed to be the only smile Lovino ever gave willingly, and chuckled along. "I'm only half joking. I think you would have been good at it. You're smart and you like planning things. Isn't half of stealing about planning how to do it?"

"It's a bit more than that. I think I would be as good at thievery as you would be at tech support." Arthur began to imitate Lovino talking to a confused, frustrated client, equally as confused and frustrated. He got a smack to the knee for his efforts, but Lovino laughed.

They fell into a comfortable silence. Lovino rested against his leg and Arthur enjoyed the closeness, massaging his fingers against Lovino's scalp. This was their usual position. The Italian was like a cat, quick to purr when petted and equally as quick to scratch when irritated, and Lovino had _sharp_ claws.

"Still awake, lovely?" He wrapped a curl around his finger, smiling.

"Hm." Lovino opened his eyes slightly, his brown eyes turning gold in the light.

"Do you mind giving me some insight on a case?"

Lovino's fingers dug into his leg and he closed his eyes again. There's those claws.

"I know you don't like to, but you'd be a great help." Lovino possessed a surprising knack for spotting things he'd missed in everyday life and the few times he asked for assistance on a case. Arthur was convinced he would lose track of himself without Lovino reminding where he placed his glasses or a certain book, and there were more than a few cases that would have gone unsolved without him. If Lovino wasn't quite so prideful, Arthur would have him on his team in a heart beat. Arthur offered Lovino a job time after time, especially after a frustrating lay off. No one could blame him for not trying, Lovino just wouldn't hear of it.

The Italian sighed, frowning disapprovingly at him. "Fine, but you really shouldn't be asking me. It's your job to find them." Lovino rose from his place by Arthur's feet and sat on the sofa, lounging across the cushions. "What's the case?"

"Alright, you're an unhappy housewife who ran off with your lover. You didn't have time to burn all your love letters, because your husband found out about your escapades and you have to leave quickly. Where do you hide them?"

"Got pictures of the bedroom?"

"Here." He slipped his phone out of his pocket and pulled up a picture of the bedroom. Lovino's look of disgusted boredom nearly made him chuckle. The bedroom look like it'd been pulled straight from a retail magazine, and Lovino reserved a special hate for such aesthetically perfect rooms. Their own bedroom consisted of mismatched furniture and walls of books; a strange clash of Lovino's chaotic tastes and Arthur's bookworm nature. They were both hoarders; Arthur of books and Lovino of, well, everything. The Italian had come to him with nothing, but in a few short months, he managed to accumulate enough random junk that Arthur made him redecorate the entire flat, so long as he kept Arthur's tastes in mind. He acquired a new coffee table, art work, and couch by the end of it. Despite Lovino's love for mess and chaos, the Italian knew how to balance both their tastes to make his flat feel like an actual home for once.

"Easy, it's between the bed and the wall."

"Why there?"

"Well," Lovino sucked half his lip into his mouth and thought about his next words carefully. "I'm a housewife who likely doesn't have two brain cells in her pretty noggin and only purpose is to cook and clean. It's unlikely my bastard husband will ever change the sheets, so he'll never find them, and if he did, they'll likely fall under the bed, where they won't be discovered until some later date when I'd hopefully be far away."

Arthur smiled, though it turned into more of a proud smirk. He loved when Lovino demonstrated his rare cunning. If only the Italian would apply it to his jobs. "I knew you wouldn't let me down, lovely. I'll tell Gilbert to check there tomorrow."

"Now, you owe me for helping you." A slow smirk curled on Lovino's lips.

"Shouldn't it be free? I am your lover after all." Arthur shivered internally. He knew when Lovino got _that_ expression his face his clothes would not stay on his body long.

Lovino moved from the couch onto his lap, straddling his hips. "Nothing's ever free." The Italian kissed him, his fingers already working the tie knot loose.

...

Arthur woke up with his lips burning and his head throbbing. Somehow he managed to roll off the sofa onto the floor and the empty scotch bottle had lodged itself under his back. It wasn't the worst position he'd ever woken up in, but it sure was painful. It took him a few minutes to recollect his scattered mind and sit up. His body protested loudly and light assaulted his eyes. He barely repressed a groan and stumbled to the bathroom to throw up his empty stomach.

_I need to drink less_, Arthur thought and let out a shaky laugh, pressing his face against the rim of the toilet. Lovino would be disappointed to see all his old, lonely habits coming back. Next on his list would be taking up smoking again, or maybe even some harder drugs.

A flash of his dream drifted across his mind and his thoughts came skidding to a halt. He clutched the thread of dream desperately and impaled himself on the broken pieces of memory. Arthur remembered that night well, it being the reason he went to France in the first place. Lovino pointed him towards the love letters he needed to find his target, who had fled to rural France. It took him weeks to track down that little minx; she wasn't as empty-headed as he thought. Perhaps if he'd found his target a bit quicker, he could have gotten back in time to stop Lovino from leaving.

Arthur rose from the floor and splashed water on his face, brushing the taste of vomit out of his mouth. His body dragged and Arthur forced it to the bedroom. It took him a good five weeks, but he eventually managed, after chronic back pain, to move back into their bedroom. He couldn't quite adjust, though, to waking up at night, reaching for Lovino in the dark, only to find his place empty. There were still times he woke up expecting Lovino to be next to him, mornings when he didn't remember his loneliness.

_Between the bed and the wall_.

His hands hesitated pulling on his pajama shirt, and Arthur looked around the room. Though everything was in its place, the room was much neater than it normally is due to his practical nature. In the back of his mind, a little voice nagged him to investigate the room. It had already been searched by Gilbert (Arthur didn't have the heart to do it himself), but perhaps he had missed something. Gilbert wasn't as used as Arthur to looking for the little secrets of a room.

He finished putting on his pajamas, shoving the thought of looking around away, and laid in bed. Despite being exhausted, Arthur tossed and turned, unable to relax. The warm air stifled him and he kicked off the blankets. It usually wasn't so hot in his room; he kept the thermostat low. Arthur slipped his arm under the pillow, sighing at the coolness there. His hand continued sliding along the bed until it dropped off. He hesitated at the drop and lowered his hand down. Arthur jerked back when his fingers they came in contract with rough paper. He immediately stuck his hand back in and dug out a thick envelope.

The paper fell victim to his tearing hands and a phone fell out into his lap. Arthur froze for a moment, staring at Lovino's phone. The screen remained dark as he fiddled with the buttons. It took him a few frustrating minutes to realize the battery was dead. Arthur launched himself from the bed and plugged the phone in. It turned on with bright colors flowing across the screen and a quiet jingle. He immediately pulled up the phone's history. The list was filled with calls and texts from him, but near the bottom of the history was an unknown number.

He tapped it and the history for the number came up. Only one message had been received from the number. There was a video attached to the message, and Arthur hesitated to open it up. Hating to wait more than anything the video could hold, Arthur played the video with only minimal hesitation.

Lovino came into the screen, lit by the yellow light of a lamp. His face looked weathered and tired, more so than when Arthur last saw him. The lines of his face ran deeper than before and Lovino brushed a hand through his hair; a nervous tick Arthur picked up on immediately. "Ah, hello, Arthur. I hope France was...fun."

"Um, how should I start..." Lovino ran a hand through his hair again, curling the strands around his fingers. "There are things I haven't told you...about me. Things that you don't need to know about, even now that I'm gone. Well, dammit, time caught up with me. I thought I could outrun it when I went to London with you—You made me think I could. You were my chance at happiness and a home. ...I knew better than to think that, but you made me hope that things would be different this time.

"I love you," Lovino said, tired amazement entering his voice. "It seems like such a dream to me, especially now that it's out of reach. We could have been happy—and we were for a while." Lovino shook his head, looking away in embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Arthur, I really am. I wish things could have been different. I wish we'd had more time. I've ruined everything. Fuck, I wish...for your sake, I wish you had never met me.

"I wish this message could explain everything. I know you have questions, but I can't answer them. I'd tell you to not look for me, but I know you will." A faint, bitter smile crossed over Lovino's face, leaving only the bitterness in its wake. "I'll tell you now, as you'll probably have found out, you won't find me. I'm not coming back, Arthur. I'm sorry. ...Goodbye."

The video ended and Arthur lost track of what happened after that. He played that video over and over until every word ingrained in his head and every mannerism burned into his eyes. It all blurred together, in the end, except for Lovino's last word. That word haunted him, running circles around his mind until he knew them better than his own name.


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur arrived at worked the next day, sleepless and drunk. He laughed in the faces of his colleagues. It wasn't often they saw him completely off his ass drunk, and it wasn't likely they ever would again. Kiku attempted reasoning with him and Gilbert tried coaxing him to a cab, but Arthur wasn't having any of that. He cleared his desk with a reckless sweep of his arm and threw Lovino's files on it.

"Get off me, Kiku!" Arthur shrugged his friend off roughly when he once again tried to get him to go home. He laughed at Kiku's tight expression. "Don't look so worried, mate. I'm just fine."

"Arthur, you're drunk. You should be home sleeping." Kiku hovered around him, his hands fluttering towards Arthur and away uncertainly.

"So! My mind is just as sharp sober!" He scattered the files on his desk and grabbed a marker from the drawer. "It occurred to me last night, after Lovino decided to grace me with his presence, that we have been asking the wrong fucking question this whole time."

Gilbert looked at him in surprise. "You saw Lovino?"

Arthur threw Lovino's phone at Gilbert, but horribly misjudged the distance. The phone ended up hitting the ground at Gilbert's feet, cracks blooming across the screen, and Arthur lurched with laughter on the edge of hysteria. "Lovino's too clever, too clever. He hid his phone behind the bloody bed for me to find."

He knew he was losing it. "Anyway, as I was saying," his words slurred and he stumbled to the whiteboard, "We were asking the wrong question. We were asking 'Where?'... Where, O where had my Lo-vino gone? Where, O where could he be..."

Silence fell now that he had everyone's attention, their eyes riveted on his dragging handwriting. "We should have been focusing on the 'Why.' Why would Lovino leave?" Arthur looked at his coworkers, grinning as they glanced at each other. "No answer, right? Well, Lovino was kind enough to provide that tid bit of information. Lovino was running from a past, the past he never spoke of, but Lovino gives us the information again. He gave us this info at the very start of our investigation even, but us, being the _stupid_ _wankers_ we are, dismissed it. I mean, Lovino was too incompetent to keep a regular job, how could he do anything even slightly challenging?"

"You can't be suggesting..."

"That is exactly what I'm suggesting!" Arthur wrote in big, smearing letters. He didn't care to make sure of his spelling. "Lovino is part of _Il Crepuscolo_. He came to London to get out of the business, but they wouldn't let him go. No! They are holding something over him that forced him to leave! If we find _Il Crepuscolo_, we find Lovino!" Arthur threw down the marker, the swing of his arm throwing him off balance, and he fell over. The world spun around him, colors blurring across his vision. Nausea hit him like a punch to the gut and Arthur vomited up his empty stomach. There was a scuffle around him. He thought he heard Kiku call his name, but it all faded to black.

...

He woke up to a throbbing head and dry mouth. Movement seemed miles away and thoughts drifted through his mind sluggishly. Lovino crossed his mind, but that caused him too much pain to dwell on long. Every sound rung out loudly around him from the groans of old pipes to the muffled voices of Kiku and Gilbert. Arthur assumed he was in the office still, maybe in the waiting room they kept for clients or even Kiku's bedroom. His outburst from earlier came back in blurred snippets, but not enough to really form a cohesive memory. He considered sitting up, but the slightest thought of upward movement sent his stomach into an unpleasant roll.

The deafening opening and closing of a door made him wince and turn his head away.

"You're awake." Even Kiku's soft voice fell like a hammer on his ears.

"Yeah," he croaked.

"I brought some water."

Arthur forced himself to sit up, clutching his head as it swam. He accepted the water bottle gratefully, finding himself parched. Kiku, for his part, stayed silent as Arthur gathered himself. "So," he finally said. "How long have I been out?"

"Over twelve hours. I considered taking you to the hospital, but Gilbert told me you'd be fine. I suppose he was right. You needed the sleep" Kiku stared at him steadily, regarding him as one would a wild animal.

"_What_?" Arthur took another swig of water.

"What?"

He scowled. He must have done something to make Kiku look at him like that. "What the hell did I do?"

"Other than having a mental break down and vomiting, nothing really." Kiku had the worst timing when it came to sarcasm.

"Bloody great." He laid back down and put his back to Kiku.

"Talk to me, Arthur."

He awkwardly drained the bottle of water, frowning when his stomach gave a threatening roll. "I'm fine."

"Then why did you come in here, barely able to stand, yelling about _Il Crepuscolo_? You are not fine."

"Didn't you understand? Lovino's part of the _Il Crepuscolo_."

"No, he's not." Kiku sighed deeply. "You're grasping at straws, Arthur. I looked at the video of Lovino and nothing he says has any connection to _Il Crepuscolo_."

Anger rose inside him, but Arthur shoved it down. "Then what is Lovino running from?"

"Probably gambling debts. You once told me Lovino had a keen hand at poker." Kiku looked down at him, the picture of logic and pity. It made his skin crawl; he could see Kiku's thoughts in his usually unreadable eyes. His friend didn't believe a word he said and took him for a desperate drunk.

"No, I said he had a keen hand at _cheating_ at poker. If he had debts, you would have been able to find them. Listen to what you're saying! Lovino is gone and not even you can find a trace of him. What corporations are best at disappearing? Don't you say anything about the Mafia either, Lovino despised them." Arthur stood up, causing Kiku to look up at him. He may be weaken and on the edge of losing his mind, but he would not stand to be pitied and looked down upon.

"You're not thinking straight. We have looked for months. Lovino is gone and you have to accept that. You can't keep doing this to yourself." Kiku set a hand on his arm.

"You're not going to help me." Arthur stared at his friend, betrayal stirring inside him.

Kiku shook his head. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I can't support this fruitless searching for someone who obviously doesn't want to be found."

Arthur fell silent, externally and internally. He stood in front of a decision, a crossroad between two parts of his life. He'd been working with Kiku for years. He trusted Kiku with anything—with everything, but he _loved_ Lovino. He planned to marry Lovino when he got back from France. He planned many things, but they all fell apart as soon as he saw that empty closet. The memory of what he almost had kept him up at nights, made him open bottle after bottle of booze. Arthur couldn't let that go.

"You're one of my closest friend. I trust you completely," he said calmly, coming to a decision. "And it's because I trust you that I can go."

Panic slide across Kiku's face. "Go where?"

"To look for Lovino. You were right when you said we couldn't waste time actively looking for him. I'm going to leave the company for you to run while I go follow my own leads." Arthur sat down and pulled on his shoes, which were neatly set to the side.

"You can't do that, Arthur! It's your company!"

"It's yours now. Consider it a gift for your friendship." Arthur stood and walked towards the door, but Kiku quickly appeared in front of him. "Move."

"I can't let you do this! You've worked years to make this company successful. I can't take over ownership." A pink flush rose to Kiku's cheeks that only appeared when the pale man was truly flustered.

"Then watch it for me and make sure it doesn't go under. I want to return to this business someday and I rather not have to rebuild from the ground up." He set a firm hand on his friend's shoulder and pushed him out of the way. Arthur exited the warehouse he'd spent days so carefully picking out when he first started. He walked past Gilbert, a man who he had befriended and made into someone worth something. He had no doubt his company was in good hands; Arthur hired Kiku for more than just his friendship. Knowing that and having the perfect reason to leave, Arthur still hesitated as he walked away. His job was all he had for many years, but Arthur always did bore of stagnation quickly. He'd spent far too much time in that building looking at strangers when he should have been home looking at Lovino.

His phone rang and Arthur picked up with a grin, feeling strangely liberated. "I was just about to call you. Tell me, is it too soon to go back to Paris?"

...

...

Francis studied him over his cup of coffee. They had met at their usual place, a cafe with a nice open view of the city. Arthur enjoyed his usual cup of tea and let Francis look all he wanted. His old "friend" was probably listing every difference on his face from the dark circles under his eyes to the bloodied, chewed beds of his nails. He knew he looked too shabby to be in Paris, Francis' reaction to his clothing said that well enough. It also told him Francis knew something was seriously wrong and it was only a matter of time until Francis asked the million dollar question.

"What happened? You were radiant the last time I saw you, and it hasn't been _that_ long since I saw you." Francis set down his coffee.

"Lovino left me." It was no use beating around the bush. When it came to Francis, the man had a knack for sniffing out the truth.

Francis' eyes widened for a moment before turning down with sympathy. "I'm so sorry. Tell me what happened."

"I don't know."

"Be truthful, Arthur. What did you do?"

He laughed, surprising them both with how bitter it sounded. "It's funny how you assumed I did something wrong."

"Isn't that usually how it goes?" Francis looked at him warily now, frowning like the bitterness of his coffee just struck him. "You glorify your lover beyond the point of any normal person and get angry whenever they don't live up to whatever image you made for them. Once you realize they are indeed a regular human, you destroy your relationship in the most damaging way possible and come complaining to me when you find yourself hurt." Despite his harsh words, Francis knew it was more than the regular loss.

"I wish it was like that. It'd be much easier if I knew it was something I did." Arthur sipped his tea, glancing at the couples walking around. "Unfortunately, this time it's not my fault. Lovino left due to mysterious circumstances that I have yet to unearth."

"Couldn't you just find him? You're a hound dog for a reason."

"Do you think I haven't tried!" Arthur quickly lowered his voice, ignoring the glances sent his way. Once his temper was under control, he spoke again, "Lovino was gone when I went back to London. I've been looking for him ever since."

"And you haven't found anything?" Francis' finely pluck brows raised to his hairline and the disbelief in his voice irked Arthur.

"Not a single bloody thing," Arthur ground out slowly, tightening his grip on his cup. It was painful to admit he'd fail to even get on Lovino's trail.

Francis leaned closer, interest lighting the blue of his eyes. "But it takes a professional to hide from you."

"I know."

"Then...your Italian wasn't the average Italian." A smirk grew on Francis' lips, interest lighting his eyes. "Oh, Arthur, Arthur, you just have the worst of luck. What am I going to do with you?"

"Oi! Shut your bloody mouth!" Arthur sulked. "I didn't come here to moan and groan about my bollocked up luck."

Francis set his chin on his hand, looking at Arthur like a fat cat looks at a mouse. The Frenchman was ready to accept the challenge of helping him or wave it off for another job, whichever suited his tastes more. "Then what did you come here for?"

"Information."

"Ooohh, my specialty. I'll have you know now, though, I don't know any Loivnos. It's quite an unusual name, you know," said Francis, like he'd actually spent time looking into Lovino's name.

"I didn't come to ask about him. I doubt he's using the name Lovino, anyway." He'd grown tired of their banter. It was time to speak business. "I want to know about the Twilight."

Francis blinked at him until realization dawned on him and he sat up straight. "What makes you think I know any more than anyone else?"

"Because you literally make it your business to know more than anyone else." Arthur watched Francis closely, noticing the slight twitch in his jaw. Francis had a good poker face, but they knew each other too well to get away with lying. The blond had information, but something kept him from sharing it. Arthur wanted to say it was spite that kept Francis silence, but he could see the true reason in the blue flash of his eyes and mocking quirk of his mouth.

Francis was afraid.

"What's so scary about The Twilight?"

A light laugh escaped Francis' lips, making his next words almost playful. "Monsters hide in The Twilight, ready to pluck up any naughty children who _stick their noses where they don't belong._"

Arthur raised a brow at the barbed words, hearing the warning underneath clearly. "Some children never learn."

"And those are the children who never go home." Francis finished his coffee and stood. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of any help. I truly don't know anything."

"You're lying to me, Francis." He also stood.

"Perhaps." Francis hugged him briefly. "I hope you find your Italian."

He sighed. "I see. If that's all you're willing to say about it, won't you at least keep an eye out for him? He can't hide forever."

"Of course. I'll need a picture, though." Francis put on his winning smile. He sincerely wanted to help Arthur, but somethings were best left to silence.

Arthur took out his phone and pulled up a photo, handing it over to Francis. The blond took it, a grin already forming on his lips. Francis' face froze, horror quickly sweeping away his smile. "This can't be Lovino. This is low even for you, Arthur!"

"What are you talking about?" Arthur glared at Francis. He'd expected comments on Lovino's attractiveness, but he hadn't expected a complete denial. "He's incredibly handsome. He's a high for me!"

"Oh god, you're not kidding." Francis tugged a strand of his styled hair. "This is Lovino?"

"Yes!" He watched the Frenchman closely as his eyes flicked back to the photo. "Is there something you're not saying, Francis? Do you possibly know Lovino?"

Francis swallowed, his throat bobbing, too shaken to properly put on a good face. "No, this is my first time seeing _Lovino_."

Arthur grabbed Francis' silk shirt, putting a strain on the fabric. "Don't you fucking lie to me, Francis! If you know something and you don't tell me, I'll never forgive you."

The blond put his hands up and tried to back away. People glanced their way, but no one moved to stop them. They'd fought at the cafe plenty of times and this was no different. "I don't know anything about Lovino! I've never seen your Italian before!"

"Don't do that! Don't twist your words around to suit your own truth!" Arthur gave Francis a shake. "Can you look me in the eye and seriously say you have never seen that man before?"

Hesitation crossed Francis' face along with fear, caught between his friendship to Arthur and a fear of something greater. Finally, resignation settled on Francis' features and Francis looked away. "I cannot.

"But I cannot tell you anything either and please don't ask me to," Francis pleaded. "You are my friend. I won't allow you to get mixed up with people like that. It's better this Lovino left. He is no good—"

"Do you know where he is?" Arthur cut Francis off, barely keeping a grip on his emotions.

"You're not listening, Arthur—"

"You're damn right, I'm not listening! Where is he? I know you know!"

Hands grabbed his and ran down to his wrists, prying them off his shirt. "Arthur, Arthur. Calm down. You're making a scene."

He recoiled immediately and smoothed a hand through his hair. Arthur glanced around, looking away from the staring eyes. French people always did love drama. "I'm fine now. Sorry."

Francis continued to stare at him, sickening concern now tainting the clear blue of his eyes. Arthur hated that look and the pity he could see growing. He didn't care if there was reason to pity him, his pride wouldn't allow it. "Stop looking at me like that. I said I'm _fine,_" he growled out.

"You are not fine, Arthur. Your Lovino has obviously left his mark on you. You really did love him..." Francis shook his head, almost in disbelief.

"Of course, I love him. I wanted to marry him." Exhaustion gripped his body suddenly and he slumped. "Don't tell me I'm not fine. I don't need you to say it too."

"I hate to see you like this... Come to my apartment. We'll have a drink and talk some more." Francis set a hand on his shoulder.

"Will you tell me about the Twilight?"

The Frenchman drew back at once. "I told you, I cannot. They are in a different world from you. There are times when those worlds overlap, but not this time. They will kill you."

"Then we have nothing to talk about. I have other leads I need to follow up on." Arthur half turned away. There weren't any leads. He was chasing the ghosts of ghosts of leads. There was nothing left for him to chase, but his own demons.

"Wait!" Francis grabbed his arm and pulled him out to the sidewalk. The grip on his arm dug into his skin and Arthur nearly pulled away, but his friend's worried expression stopped him. Francis' eyes darted around, checking the flow of people around them. "I won't tell you anything about the Twilight, but perhaps going back to where you started would lead you to a Lovino," Francis said lowly, releasing his arm. "Things tend to go in a circle, non?"

Arthur turned to speak, but Francis was already many steps away and moving swiftly through the crowds. He stared at the moving people, gathering his thoughts, and slowly walked back to his hotel.


End file.
